


flash and go

by myadamantiumheart



Series: Bedroom Hymns [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Brief Cockwarming, Consensual Kink, F/M, Femdom, Kink Exploration, Light Dom/sub, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Premature Ejaculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myadamantiumheart/pseuds/myadamantiumheart
Summary: Sometimes, it feels like Kushina is a beautiful hurricane and Minato's holding on for dear life. She's so lovely, so strong, so overwhelming in the best of ways, and he's not entirely sure how he can ever keep up. Luckily for him, she's willing to wait.Or: the beginning of a modern AU where everyone is kinky and poly and Minato is very happy to let Kushina take him on wild, wild ride.
Relationships: Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina
Series: Bedroom Hymns [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016256
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	flash and go

The fact of the matter is that Kushina, in all of her glory and sunshine, is simply a hurricane of a person. He loves her more than anything- not in spite of this fact, but because of it. It’s true that they’re young, barely old enough to drink, but when he looks at her, he can see a whole life spanning out ahead of them. And that fact alone makes it possible for Minato to say yes to trying almost anything she wants to try. A new bookstore? Of course. A day trip to try all five grilled cheeses she saw on Instagram last week? He’ll drive. Painting their bedroom walls to look like a forest? He’s not much of an artist, but watching Kushina giggle over how awful the flower he’s working on looks, a little splotch of paint on her nose, is worth it. And the fact of his willingness to go on whatever adventure she wants to embark on extends beyond silly things like sandwiches or blind-picking books at the library after studying together. He’s lucky (so very, very lucky) that she’s adventurous in  _ the bedroom _ as well. 

For the most part, when they started dating, Minato was just obsessed with the chance to  _ touch _ her. He’s mesmerized by the way her stomach curves, the soft, smooth skin under her belly button, the freckles on her shoulders. Kushina’s hair always falls over her arms like a wave of fire, sweet smelling gardenia and summer sun. Her thighs are so strong under his hands, her fingers so steady as they curl around the back of his neck, and he could watch her grin down at him forever. He gets lost in it all, in the taste of her and the sound of her laughter, or even better- the way she moans in his ear when he presses her up against the wall of their bedroom, back onto those wobbly trees they’d painted, to make her come on his hands the minute she gets home and he can have her in his arms again. He loves how she laughs with him, kisses him like a whirlwind, tangles his hair and leaves him with red cheeks and adoring eyes watching her spin away to whatever comes next. She’s a perfect teacher when it comes to how to give her pleasure, confident in her own skin and willing to demand any price from him, all of which he happily pays. 

The problem is that for all he’s able to lose himself in Kushina, he’s also, well. Still just a twenty-one year old man who’s overwhelmed by his girlfriend’s gut-punch beauty and sexuality, and sometimes that means he gets too high too quickly and can’t quite back down in time. It’s hard to keep his focus when she starts touching him back, when she pulls him closer with her strong legs and he can feel how wet she is. The feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest, how hot and tight she is around him, the way she murmurs in his ear and says his name with such adoration… It is, in all honesty, impossible for him to hold it together sometimes. He always, always makes up for it with his mouth and his hands and his words, and he  _ knows _ she’s not disappointed by him, but still. When she asks him if he’d be willing to try something new, if he’d mind if she just took charge, the next time, he says yes immediately. It’s not a problem, per se, but it’s a  _ situation _ , in his mind, and he feels the tiniest twinge of guilt about it that pushes him easily into handing her the reins and sitting back to see where she takes them. 

But it’s also Kushina, so she doesn’t just spring it on him right away. He keeps wondering what she’ll do, when she’ll surprise him like she has with every other thing she wanted to try so far: handcuffs, which looked great on her, a picnic in a deserted arboretum that ended with him eating her for dessert, strawberry syrup and whipped cream that ruined their bedsheets so badly she had to tie-dye them to make it look intentional. He should have realized that she’d wait for the perfect timing, on a Saturday afternoon with hours stretching out and nothing to fill them but their own ardency. He’s lying in their bed with a book in hand, the first fiction novel he’s read in months. He’s so engrossed in the pages, in the joy of finally reading something that isn’t for his senior thesis, that he hardly notices she’s in the room until he catches a flash of bare skin out of the corner of his eye and looks up reflexively. Kushina grins at him, her hands fiddling with the waistband of her leggings as she begins to peel them off. She’s already shirtless, and it steals the breath from his lungs to watch the way her stomach squishes slightly when she bends over, the strap of her bra sliding down her arm, the slowly exposed cotton of her bright red underwear. He can’t see her without his fingers itching to touch. 

“Oh,” he says, rather faintly, belated cogs whirring in his brain as he catches up to what she’s doing. “You want to- now? I mean,  _ yes- _ ” 

“Then get undressed,” Kushina laughs at him, tossing her socks in the vague direction of their laundry hamper and sliding her underwear off. She mimes throwing her discarded panties at him, just to make him duck, and her delighted giggles fill up his chest until he’s nearly choking on the weight of his affection for her. By the time she crawls onto the bed to meet him, taking his book from his hands and setting it on the nightstand, he’s already lost on the waves of her storm. His shirt comes off easily, and so do his sweatpants, until she’s happily astride his thighs with her arms slung around his neck. 

“Hi,” he says, so charmed by the way she rubs her nose against his, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes practically sparkling in the lemon-amber afternoon light. 

“Hi,” she murmurs back, her mint chapstick sticky and sweet when she bends forward to kiss him into the headboard with a confident mouth. She wraps around him like a climbing morning glory, filling every single one of his senses, until there’s nothing but her. Nothing but the way her teeth scrape against his lip, and the feeling of her throat under his mouth, and the way she shivers happily as his tongue trails across her collarbone towards the fading pink mark he left two nights ago. His forehead meets her shoulder with a dull thud and he gasps for breath when she slides her hands up his chest to play with his nipples, dragging her blunt nails across his pecs. This is how she gets him, waiting until he’s engrossed by her body to strike. She rolls his sensitive buds between her fingers, pinching and tugging, watching his hands try desperately to grasp at her waist as each of her movements sends another bolt of heat down through his stomach. “I love this,” she says, her voice low and thick with arousal, as her fingers clamp down mercilessly and he whines for her. “I love how sensitive you are, Mina.” 

“Ha, you,” he gasps, pulling his head up and groaning when she does it again, falling backwards against the headboard and feeling his face flush even further. “You just like to, to push buttons-” 

“Of course I do,” she practically purrs, watching his stomach contract as he tries not to push up into her hands. She settles down further against him, and he swallows heavily at the hot press of her rocking across his growing erection. “You look so pretty like this, like you can’t even help it.” 

“I  _ can’t _ ,” he rasps, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his fingers into the soft curve of her hips, hard enough to leave a mark. Five minutes ago, he was reading about dragon riders and their social conflicts, and now Kushina’s shuffling her legs so she can arch forward and rub against his stomach, squeezing his waist with her knees. “Fuck,” he swears helplessly. “You’re so fucking wet already.” 

“You seemed really into that book, so I warmed up without you,” she shrugs, like that’s not a mental image that will wreck him entirely, and he grits his teeth just thinking about her sliding her clever fingers over herself, soaking those red panties through. 

Kushina’s delighted eyes watch hungrily as he breathes through his nose for composure, his cock twitching against his stomach as he thinks about her like that. She gives him a small amount of breathing room, a bare few seconds to unwind, before she’s sliding back a little bit and tugging him along with her. He goes easily, head slightly clearer without her tormenting his now red and rock hard nipples, until she has him flat on the bed and she can straddle his thighs with her hair falling around her like the crimson veil of a medieval queen. She’s so beautiful, regal, sharp teeth and bitten pink lips, that he can’t help but reach out to hold her waist again with reverent hands. It’s never been hard to, well,  _ get him hard _ , but he feels overwrought already with how suddenly she’d reached into the heart of him and pulled every lever he has. She bends to kiss him again, a sunflower bowing down to earth, and he lets her swallow down his desperate moan when she slots the cradle of her hips over him with ease. It’s a small adjustment, her thumb rubbing across his length as she slides the head through her slick folds. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” he moans, the wet-hot glide of her over him all-encompassing as she grinds down across him, angling just so that the tip of his cock rubs right under her clit and sends shudders down her spine. She rolls her hips so smoothly, making such pleased, satisfied noises to feel the easy slip and slide, and he has to hold her waist like a lifeline to keep himself steady. “Kushina, you don’t want- inside?” he tries to ask when she just keeps moving like that, unable to tear his eyes away from the way his erection peeks out between her thighs as she rocks back, cradled in those neatly trimmed crimson curls that he knows feel so soft against his cheeks. It’s so good, so so good, the feeling of her thighs clamping tight on his sides and every nerve attuned to how hot and slick she feels. He can feel himself dripping with it, struggling to keep his legs from bending so he can thrust up against her, giving her the control. 

“No,” she sings, spreading her fingers across his pecs and catching his already tormented nipples between her ring and middle fingers. She squeezes them playfully, riding the arch of his back and smirking when he gasps for air. “This is nice, Mina, you feel  _ good _ .” 

“It’s, um,  _ but _ , ah-” he attempts, turning his head and pressing his cheek to the pillow to try and gather his words as she grinds her hips harder, his stomach wet with both of them and his head spinning. He can smell her and it’s impossible to escape, the air thick in his lungs with every panting breath. One of her hands comes up to cup his red-hot cheek, and she turns him back to look her in the eye as she grins so mischievously and rocks up just enough that the tip of his erection catches against her. He slides in the barest inch as she clamps down around him, and he  _ knows _ he’s not going to survive it. “Kushina,” he pleads, grasping at her waist. “Just a little, ah, give me, just a second, I’m gonna,  _ nnnnh _ , it’s too much, I’m gonna-” 

“Gonna what?” she asks, so unconcerned and so deliberately obtuse, teeth flashing sharp in the afternoon sunlight as he squirms and tries to hold it together. She ripples around him, and he can feel her dripping down his length, and the sensation of her squeezing the sensitive head of his cock is too much to bear. He can feel the fire building and the knot in his gut is going to unravel, there’s nothing to stop him from going off that cliff and she’s certainly not going to help him either. 

“ _ Gonna come _ ,” he nearly sobs, fingernails digging crescent moons into her, leaving behind galaxies and planets as he clenches his eyes shut and she giggles, like little bells falling down around his neck and choking him alive. 

“Oh, are you?” she hums, pinching his nipple so cruelly, sharp and unforgiving, and she lets herself drop down on him in one slick, tight movement until suddenly he’s buried as far as he can go. “Then  _ come _ , Mina.” And she sits there, squeezing the life and the breath out of him, as he moans broken and low and falls directly off that edge. It’s almost painful, nearly a ruined orgasm, feeling her stay perfectly still and burning hot around him as he squirms under her and comes in three, four, five desperate spurts, feeling himself fill her up and yet aching for more stimulation. And when it’s over, his face is as bright as her hair, embarrassed by how quickly she’d gotten him off and how he still feels arousal aching in his gut despite his orgasm. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he pants, shame burning a hole in his tongue. “I didn’t- ah, I still wanna, I’m sorry-” He tries to move his hands, un-cramping them from their death grip on Kushina’s hips, so that he can reach down and touch her too because he’s not leaving this bed until she’s come at least twice after that far-too-quick performance from him, but she doesn’t let him move. She presses a hand to his shoulder to keep him down, her other hand patting his and pushing it back to hold onto her sweat-damp skin. 

“It’s okay, trust me,” she coos, petting his heaving chest and tugging gently at his curling bangs. “Remember, you said I could be in charge, right?”

“Yes, but,” he rasps, turning his cheek to kiss her fingers as they play with his golden hair. She hums happily, letting him press his lips to her palm with reverence, full of forgiveness for his perceived failure.

“And if all I want to see is you coming again and again for me, baby?” she asks him, not letting him finish his sentence, devil in her eyes. 

“I mean, you can,” he swallows heavily as she squeezes her muscles around him again, knotting up his tongue and stealing his words. “You can have anything, anything you want.” 

“Oh, I know,” she says gleefully, getting up on her knees and letting him slip out of her to fall against his stomach with a wet noise. “You’re always so good for me, pretty boy.” Minato can’t help shivering at her tone, at the sound of her lips forming around that praise, the idea of being her  _ good boy _ . He could be good for her forever, it feels like, no matter what she throws at him. He gets so caught up in the look of her damp thighs, the fact that he can see his come sliding out of her just a little, the desire to taste her so fucking strong in this moment, that he fails to notice her movement as she slips her hands back down his chest to grab his cock once more. 

“Ah, fuck, Kushina,” he swears fervently, when she circles clever fingers around him and squeezes once, twice, three times and he barely manages to keep his hips down on the bed. 

“Good boy,” she murmurs happily, watching him try his best to stay still for her. She rubs her thumb over the over sensitive tip of his cock, smearing the fluid there and teasing at nerves that border on painful. When she pushes her hair out of the way, back over her shoulder, and bends down to lick a hot stripe up the side of him, he  _ knows _ she’s going to manage to get him hard again. He has nothing to hold onto anymore, unwilling to reach out and tangle his fingers in her hair when he’s trying so hard to be good for her, so he scrambles for an anchor until he gets fistfuls of the duvet in his grasp. He knows his face must be on fire, can barely bear to look at her as she traces a circle around the head of his cock and dips her tongue in the slit, thumb teasing at the sensitive frenulum. Her other hand around him at the base is almost a nothing-sensation because it’s so intense to have her press her lips to the head like that when he’s still so, so sensitive from just coming, but he feels them both acutely when he finally loses the battle and his hips buck up reflexively. 

Against the odds of his refractory period and the fact that it almost hurts to get hard again, he can feel his cock thickening under her careful touch. She wraps her lips around him so slowly he could curse, and hums delightedly at the way his cock twitches and spits at the sensation. Minato’s head is spinning, feeling her drag her tongue across him, never letting him deep enough that he can actually thrust, holding him still with a firm grip. When he finally whines for her as she scrapes a fingernail up his length, setting fireworks off behind his eyes, she pulls back with that familiar grin. 

“See, you don’t need to worry,” Kushina says, letting go of him and watching as he wriggles his hips up like he can make her take him back in hand again. “Getting hard for me again, like a good little boy. I can still play with you as long as I want, baby,” she purrs. And she clearly does want to play with him. She watches him for another long moment, the way he bites his lip and restrains himself from begging her for more, before she brings her hand up to her mouth and licks the tip of her index finger. She trails it, wet and delicate, down the throbbing vein on the underside of his erection, just enough stimulation to fry his nerves. Gently, she traces every bit of him as he pants helplessly. He has to shut his eyes again when she reaches between her own thighs after a few minutes of teasing him like that and comes back with slick fingers, dripping with her own fluids, and wraps her hand around him. “Come on,” she coaxes him, dragging the loose circle of her fingers along his pink, flushed cock. “Show me how bad you want it, Minato, fuck my hand like you mean it-” 

His thighs shake as he plants his feet against the mattress, spreading his legs a little wider and thrusting up through that teasing grip. It’s not quite enough, but it’s still somehow overwhelming, to feel her fingers rubbing across every single one of his overworked nerves. He clutches at the sheets desperately, hoping she’ll tighten her hold on him, but she doesn’t, just watches him roll his hips like a man possessed, his own precome dripping over her fingers and adding to the slick slide. As soon as he feels that knot tightening again, ready to come despite how oversensitive he feels, she presses her other hand over his stomach and pushes him down roughly, taking her hand away. The sudden deprivation is enough that he can feel his eyes start to tear up, breath harsh in his throat, that swelling tide slipping away. He’s so hard it feels like he can see himself throbbing, the head of his tormented erection flushed nearly purple. Minato whimpers when she licks a dribble of precome off her thumb, wishing desperately that he could feel her on him once more, and she just giggles down at him. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate,” she croons, tracing the damp curve of his cheekbone, where his eyes water and spill over at the overwhelming sensations. “You wanna come inside, again?” 

“Please, Kushi,  _ please _ ,” he begs her, unable to be ashamed at how his voice cracks, his thighs trembling as she kneels up and shuffles over his hips once more. His heart is pounding so loud in his ears he hardly hears her moan of satisfaction as she reaches under and grabs his cock, lining him up and sinking down on him with ease. This time it’s like being set alight, fire racing through his stomach, raw nerves overstimulated and pleased all at once. She grabs his hands, untangling them from the comforter, and places them on her hips, urging him to fuck up into her. It’s like being torn apart, the urge to thrust deep inside and watch her face go slack with pleasure combined with the building ache of too-much, too-much. He knocks the tender places behind her pubic bone so perfectly with his desperate thrusts, rocking up and grinding across her clit until she’s also moaning. But it’s just another layer of overstimulation, trying to hold it together when she’s already teased him to a breaking point, and he can’t seem to stay upright in the thrall of her storm. 

“It’s okay,” she murmurs, yanking at his hair and rolling her hips down to meet his. “It’s okay, baby, you can come again, come on, fill me up, you’ve been so good-” He comes again with a tortured whine, whimpering and nearly thrashing under her, so good and so intense and so painful-right-hot that he feels like she’s reached into his chest and wrung his heart out like a towel. This time, though, she doesn’t sit still. She keeps rocking, never lifting up and letting him slip out, clenching down on his red-hot cock even as it starts to soften again. It hurts so sweetly, and Minato can’t make the words fit together in his brain to tell her how it feels, sentences jumbling over his tied-up tongue and jaw working uselessly. 

“I can’t,” he pants eventually, pressing his head back against the mattress and struggling for breath. “Kushi, I- I can’t come anymore, not a third time-” 

“Oh, I know,” she says, dragging her fingers across her pebbled nipples and tossing her head, her hair slipping like silk over her shoulders. “This isn’t about you, though, baby. If I want you inside me when I come then you’ll stay there like a good boy, right?” 

“Yes,” he rasps helplessly, agreeing to anything and everything she wants almost before she can finish asking for it. His hands tremble around her waist as she rubs two fingers across her own clit, muscles spasming around him and tugging a gasp from deep in his chest. She rocks on top of him like he’s nothing more than a convenient toy to fill her up, circling her clit and biting her lip, working herself up without any regard for how he writhes and shakes. More so now than ever, he revels in the way she sweeps him out to sea, floating on a cocktail of endorphins and nerves so frayed his eyes are just streaming down his cheeks. It almost feels like his head is wrapped in cotton, his own harsh breaths and her delighted moans echoing through his skull until there’s nothing else but Kushina, Kushina, Kushina. 

“Minato,” she whimpers, finally, gushing hot and wet around him, and he gets tunnel vision watching her come, the way she grabs at his shoulders and shakes like she’s falling apart. It feels like it lasts forever, quaking in her arms, the two of them panting into messy, ardent kisses. The fire rolls through her and back into him, like a feedback loop, and he can hardly keep his eyes from crossing. When she finally slows, stops, ceases to pull the blood from his bones, he’s dizzy and weak. “That was perfect,” she praises him, smoothing a shaky hand over his forehead and pushing his hair back. “So good, Mina, so lovely for me.” 

“I think you killed me,” he gasps, but he’s grinning sloppily up at her because he’d let her do anything, anything, anything at all to him and they both know it. “I can’t feel my feet, Kushi, holy  _ shit- _ ” And she just laughs, glorious and loud, and falls down on him to kiss him with enamored lips once more. When they’ve cleaned up, throwing their blankets in the washing machine because both of them had made more than an adequate mess, she drags the soft quilt from the couch in and wraps him up in it, tracing her fingers gently across his collarbone and pressing her palm down over his steadily beating heart. 

“That was okay?” she asks him, so tenderly, only ever so sweet and soft for him. He trails his hand through her hair, untangling it as he goes and twisting it back out of the way. 

“Yeah,” he says softly, feeling his heart swell and skip at the way her violet eyes meet his with such affection. “As long as you don’t expect me to be able to stand up for a few hours afterwards,” he teases her, tugging at her hair and bending to kiss her forehead with still-swollen lips. “I think you put me out of commission for at least a day with that.” 

“That’s why I picked a Saturday,” she says, so smug and pleased with herself that he can’t help but laugh and roll her over, tickling hands sliding down her sides, raining kisses all over her flushed, freckled cheeks because god, he loves her, he loves her, he loves her. He would let her take him apart anywhere, any time, until all she can do is gather up his pieces and pour him back into his body. 

It isn’t the last time she wrecks him like that by far. 


End file.
